


american kids

by poppyharris



Series: the only one that brings me joy, is my computer boy [4]
Category: Columbine - Fandom
Genre: F/M, anxiety written down, kissing a woman then running away, moving to utah and becoming a sheep farmer out of social embarrassment, none of that sex stuff, not being very good at talking to women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:15:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27675250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyharris/pseuds/poppyharris
Summary: dylan's got a crush but eric's got a girlfriend.
Relationships: Dylan Klebold/Original Female Character(s), Eric Harris/Original Female Character(s)
Series: the only one that brings me joy, is my computer boy [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2030974
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	american kids

dylan felt so sick as he watched. eric was feeling eli cornflakes off his spoon, then he would keep pressing sloppy kisses to her cheek. she would giggle, and laugh, and it was just so fucking wholesome, dylan wanted to scream. why was it eric that got to be happy? eric was an asshole, he always complained that eli wasn’t putting out. not that dylan wanted her, he was very happy sat at the back of calculus staring at the back of poppy’s head.

“so, do you play doom?” eric asked, pointing his carrot stick at eli, who giggled in turn. she shook her head, dipping a breadstick into the hummus in front of them. 

“mom won’t let me buy a playstation, she says it’s gonna make me not do my homework,” eli rolled her eyes, chewing on her breadstick. eric scoffed, rolling his eyes. “it’s not like i do it anyway.”

“i have to go,” dylan suddenly announced, standing up. the two jumped, as if they’d forgotten he was there. eric nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“alright, cool. don’t call,” eric nodded, before going back to smiling at eli. “so, you were saying about homework?” dylan scoffed, before picking up his bag and leaving. fuckin’ eric, man. always fuckin’ getting the pretty girls. that was it. he was going to find poppy stardew, and ask the shit out of her to study with him.

thing is, he didn’t know where she lived. or if she had a job. or a boyfriend. nah, poppy was the subject of an incredible amount of discussion amongst the video class. if she’d gotten a boyfriend, he would be the only thing they’d talk about. his mom had mentioned that she lived close by, but he wasn’t about to go around knocking on everyones’ door. 

her car was an eagle, he thought. the only place he’d seen an eagle was down on west antelope drive. worth a shot.

* * *

there it was.

there was her house. 

the lights were on, he should just knock on the door and tell her that he wanted her to study with him. what for? dylan wasn’t sure yet. bowling, she- she didn’t do fucking bowling. maybe he could offer to help her with her performing arts? poppy did that weird dance-y sing-y shit, and she was always complaining no one was willing to give her pointers. they always looked inward. 

dylan took a deep breath, standing in front of the door, his hand raised to knock. he paused, though. still not entirely sure what he was going to say. fuck it! fuck it. he knocked. no no no. he knocked. why did he knock? why, in the living fuck, did he fucking knock on poppy stardew’s door?

“oh, hiya dylan! what’re you doing out this late?”

why was she standing there? in the most fucking adorable pyjamas he’d ever seen? she was clearly getting ready for bed. what time was it, anyway? 

“i just, uh…” dylan started, not quite sure where he was going with his words. “my mom… uh, she asked me to call her around now, to let her know if i was coming home or staying at eric’s.” poppy smiled, and nodded. before suddenly looking like she’d realised something.

“oh! you need to borrow my phone! why didn’t you just say? come in, you can use the landline,” she smiled brightly at him, taking a step back, inviting him in. dylan smiled gratefully, relishing in the opportunity to be standing in her house. it smelled like her, a mixture of cookies and sweet smelling flowers. there weren’t really any pictures on the wall, but a framed picture of poppy and an exceedingly beautiful woman stood next to the phone.

“you’ve got to press zero, before you can make a local call. sorry, it’s a phone i took when i first moved, so it’s built around being in a hotel,” poppy smiled bashfully, reaching into the kitchen and turning the light off. dylan shrugged anyway, picking up the phone. fucking hell. he couldn’t actually call his mom, she’d freak if he was asking to come home.

“uhm, actually… poppy?” dylan turned to her, holding the phone up to his ear. poppy turned from the mirror, her hands desperately trying to keep the braid in place while she waited for dylan to speak. “cougar road… it’s just up the hill, isn’t it?” 

poppy nodded, tying the braid in with some kind of complicated twists and turns with her hair. “just go along buckhorn, yeah. i can give you a lift, if you want?” fuck, poppy stardew was offering him a damn lift in her car. poppy stardew’s car. the car she like, sat in, everyday. jesus christ his poor heart couldn’t handle this.

“uh, sure. yeah, that’s cool. can i pay you back for gas?” what the fuck dylan? it was a mile, if that? she wouldn’t have time to even get up to twenty, and he was offering to pay her back for fucking gas. he put the phone down as she shrugged, picking her keys out of a bowl next to the phone.

she was close. 

really close.

dylan could count every eyelash, admire the way her eyebrows were flawlessly shaped. he’d never noticed how her eyes were more of a sea green than the olive colour he’d always thought they were. poppy was getting so close, he could see the grooves in her lips. her pink, full lips…

* * *

he walked home. 

he arrived home at 11:12, after running from poppy’s house at 11. 

why did he do it? fuck, dylan. you kiss the prettiest girl at columbine, then run like a pussy because you’re nervous about how she was going to react. this was like telling robyn he wasn’t interested all over again. dylan might not be the most athletic student, but long legs paid off when you needed to cover a mile faster than a 5”5 dancer. 

dylan was going to have to see her in calculus tomorrow, and the mere thought of that made him want to see if a second floor window was enough to kill, or at least seriously maim him.

how had eric made it look so easy? dylan could put a pipe bomb together in seven seconds, he could write an essay in an hour, he could do seventy four donuts in ten minutes. but he couldn’t get a girlfriend without freaking the fuck out. that was it. he was moving to utah. and becoming a sheep farmer. fuck his depression, fuck eric, fuck poppy. 

dylan klebold was now the greatest sheep farmer in utah.

**Author's Note:**

> title: american kids by poppy


End file.
